


A Sweet Summer Night

by Nymeria442



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Gentle Sex, Geralt has a big dick, Geralt knows where the clit is, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymeria442/pseuds/Nymeria442
Summary: Of course Geralt knows where the clit is.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	A Sweet Summer Night

The warm night breeze wafting thought the gardens carried the smell of summer and wine. The air was heavy with the sweet scent of the ripe apples from the orchards adjacent to the large estate. Flowers were blossoming everywhere; boldly they flaunted their vibrant colours that stood out against the dark green of grass and hedges which seemed almost black in the pale moonlight. The only ones that perhaps surpassed the beauty and flashiness of the flowers were the guests at the soiree: Men and women were draped in the finest of silks and laces, hair was piled up on heads in most intricate braids with colourful ribbons and glinting needles, and the dresses were grand and heavy despite the warm temperature.

  
Geralt leaned against a high rose hedge with a glass of wine in his hand, ignoring the thorns pricking mercilessly his back through the thin tunic. He felt uncomfortable in the fancy attire, the missing weight of his sword at his side and the lightness of his garments giving him a sense of vulnerability. He did not like it at all. Geralt had found a spot hidden away from curious eyes from whence he could observe the festivities from a safe distance without seeming too impolite. Luckily, most of the present nobility weren’t too keen on conversing with him, for why should they waste their merry time on a witcher? He had caught several glaring and frightened stares throughout the evening, but he didn’t mind. It’s not like he wasn’t used to it.

  
Once again Geralt felt completely out of place. He attended the Summer’s Eve Soiree only out of politeness, to maintain the good bond with his current employer, Bartiro De Vengerberg, who happened to be the conductor of the festivities. Every year Bartiro held a grand party at his even grander estate. He had his gardens decorated and hundreds of delicacies and desserts cooked and baked for this decadent event. Everyone with a name to him (and proper wealth) was invited to partake in this infamous event.

Geralt shifted into a more comfortable position deciding that he had endured enough of the festivities and that it was time for him to quietly disappear, when suddenly a young woman appeared at his side.She was drinking from an ornate chalice filled to the brim with wine, her lips already deeply stained with the purpuric colour of the liquid. Soft black curls cascaded wildly down her shoulders, a stark contrast to the pale skin she exposed rather loosely. Her shoulders and back were free of the silken garment, and Geral t glimpsed a multitude of birthmarks spattered on the whiteness of her skin.

“Great party, huh?”, she mused and took another sip of the dark wine. She wasn’t looking at Geralt but followed his glance to the loud group of men he had been observing. He just grunted in an affirmative manner.

“The elite of society.” As she said it, the tallest of the men, his light hair neatly smoothed back with oils, started to chug down the contents of a massive barrel of wine, the red liquid spilling everywhere and soaking his fine blue doublet. His companions held the barrel at his mouth mercilessly and roared with laughter as he finally pushed the cask away from his lips and threw up a watery load into the grass that was already tainted red in the light of the lanterns. After a few seconds he rose again, staggering, and joined in with howling and bellowing of his fellows.  
“He does behave like a true aristocrat.”, Geralt remarked drily. The girl just smirked at that, still following the ridiculous display of the drunkards. He noticed that her eyes were of an odd violet colour, almost purple in the darkness of night.

“How lucky I am that he is my betrothed.”, she suddenly said sardonically. Geralt raised his brow and looked at her. “Well, that is … something.”, he muttered.  
“Yes. It is something.”, she sighed.

  
Then she directed her gaze at Geralt and inspected his face, as if only just noticing him. “And who might you be, mysterious stranger? You certainly aren’t part of the usual circle of these noble gatherings. I would have recognised you. You do have a rather peculiar appearance”, she said, eying his white hair. A teasing smirk had crept up her face. “You’re right, I do put effort in avoiding these sorts of events.”, Geralt replied, glancing at the groups of nobles flaunting their extravagant clothing, false smiles plastered to their faces like masks. “But I gotta admit, the food is delicious.”. The girl still looked up at him, her head slightly tilted. She was of rather small stature, he observed, she had to raise her chin in to look up to him.

Maybe it wasn’t wise to converse with her so casually; people of her rank were easily offended, and he did not want to cause a stir. He must have looked apprehensive of her, for she laughed softly and patted his shoulder.

  
Suddenly, the light-haired boy approached them, swaying slightly at every step. Even before he had reached the two, the air was filled with the foul smell of wine and a tinge of vomit. The girl pressed her lips into a thin line at his presence and quickly downed another deep sip of her own wine glass.

“Yennnn…nefer”, the boy lulled thickly, barely able to keep himself up. “Come join me. You have been…ignoring me all week…Yennn… beautiful Yenn…”. His eyes were glassy with intoxication and seemed unfocused, they darted around. He stood just a few inches from Yennefer, and Geralt could see how much willpower it took Yennefer to not push him away. The knuckles gripping her chalice turned white. He was tall and wiry, but in his current state she could have easily overwhelmed him.

“Radovid, just go away. I am not talking to you in this state. Get cleaned up for fuck’s sake”, she said coldly. Radovid frowned at that and anger passed his features. “Yenn, don’t forget that I am to be your husband. You’d do well to treat me like that.” Yennefer just raised her brow at and chuckled humourlessly. This, however, angered Radovid even more and he suddenly gripped her right wrist with force. “Yennefer your father fucking promised you to me, I am-“, he spat out, but he was interrupted; out of the blue a knife had appeared in Yennefer’s left hand and was now being pressed against his throat. Then she said very slowly: “If you fucking touch me again, I will slit your throat. I’d rather marry your corpse than your pitiful self. Now fuck off.”

  
The boy let go of her at once, eyes widened in horror. “You crazy bitch.”, he whispered as he retreated; then he turned around and made his way to his friends again, probably to drink away his sorrows. Only when he was gone, Yennefer slowly lowered the knife and Geralt now could see the fear in the eyes. She continued to stare into the darkness while rubbing her wrist subconsciously.

“I am sorry.”, said Geralt softly after a while.  
“Me too.”  
Then a small smile appeared on her face. “Don’t worry, though. I got everything under control. He is a goddam fool. Like all men…”, she mused. “No offense.”, she added with a side glance to Geralt, smirking.  
Geralt just chuckled at that drily. “None taken, can’t really argue with that.”

“Come, I’ll show you the gardens. You MUST see the labyrinth.”, she said and linked arms with him. Geralt hesitated; walking away with a soon to married noblewoman at night did not seem like the best idea to him; aristocrats tended to be inclined to rather radical forms of vengeance.

“Look, I’d love to see the labyrinth but…,” Geralt said, keen on choosing the right words, “I deeply apologize but I reckon disappearing into a dark labyrinth with you, who is betrothed, would have … consequences.”. For a moment, the girl looked irritated but then she smiled. “Do not worry, my mysterious companion. My reputation is already somewhat tainted. A quick stroll with a strange man is not going to make a difference. Also, most of our friends here are drunk as a fish. Please. Do me the favour. I am sure you’d prefer the calmness of the gardens to … this.”, she pointed at the small clusters of noblemen.  
“Please,”, she reiterated, “don’t you want to be in my company?”

Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her violet eyes glowed with mischief. He did want to go with her, to do more than that. The soft touch of her hand on his arm he sensed through his shirt, the way her red lips stood out darkly from her pale face. He became painfully aware of how revealing her dress was, how little it did cover. His trousers suddenly seemed to be too tight in all the wrong places. Shit.

“Fine.”, he grunted, rougher than he intended. But the girl just smiled innocently and pulled him along.  
“Will you at least tell me your name, stranger?”, she asked after they had walked for a while in comfortable silence, her quietly humming a jovial tune from time to time. She had led them over a rather large patch of grass away from the crowd until they arrived at a beaten path that they followed. In the distance Geralt could make out the dark silhouette of tall hedges which he assumed to be already part of the labyrinth. “I am Geralt. Of Rivia.”

She halted suddenly and looked at him, surprised. Geralt half expected her to let go of him, but her face just broke into a wolfish grin. “You’re the Witcher, aren’t you? My father has mentioned you doing some jobs for him. Clearing out some manor of his of ghosts.” Excitement sparked in her eyes.  
“He was mighty scared of you, you know. I believe the term “brutish” was used.”. She laughed heartily while she proceeded to walk down the path, pulling Geralt along.  
“Ah… I heard that one before.”, said Geralt. “He forgot ‘inhuman” and ‘butcher’ though. Aren’t you afraid to be alone in the dark with the big bad Witcher?”, he asked.  
“Oh no, it’s quite the opposite. I feel safe because I am with the big bad Witcher. Who could protect me from monsters better than you, my friend? Some fat nobleman who carries his sword as an accessory? I think not.”

They walked along then, her hand resting nonchalantly on his arm, until their path was cut off by a dark wall of hedges.  
“Come.”, she whispered as she pulled him into the dim light of the labyrinth, “I know all the best spots.”.

She grinned and led them further into the maze, passage after passage. At some point she had taken his hand and her small warm palm pressed comfortably against his. The air was filled with the smell of grass and leaves and the lingering warmth of dusk. At last, a narrow passage opened to a wider, circular space which seemed to constitute the centre of the labyrinth. It was dominated by a pompous fountain adorned with lewd sculptures of naked couples in most obscene poses. “That’s why they call it the ‘Centre of Love’.” Yennefer explained as she noticed Geralt’s curios glance. “Well…and for other reasons.”

Geralt only just noticed how quiet it had gotten. The music and laughter from the festivities lost themselves in the thick walls of the labyrinth, only a fine tune in the distance remained. The fountain bubbled faintly and calmly, spewing droplets that appeared to be liquid drops of silver in the pale moonlight. Yennefer was still looking at him with her dark violet eyes.

Then, slowly, she reached behind her back and undid the ribbons of her dress. One by one she loosened the knots until finally the dress was only held up by her shoulders. With one last tug the dress slipped of her figure and fell; like a waterfall the silk cascaded down to her ankles. Geralt let out a breath as he took in her naked body. There was nothing angular about it; It was perpetual softness, lush rounds upon rounds. Her dark nipples went hard when a cool breeze brushed over her hot skin and she shivered, and in that moment Geralt yearned nothing more than to be the wind itself; to gently caress her skin, to know if it truly felt as soft and smooth and warm as it looked illuminated by the moon.

Geralt composed himself and stepped towards Yennefer. Her dark lips were slightly parted, and her breath hitched as he stopped mere inches in front of her, heat radiating off his body and enveloping her. Geralt gently pressed his hand against her neck, his thumb brushing softly over her jaw and cheek. She shuddered at the sudden contact of skin and goosebumps trailed down her back. He could feel her blood pulsating beneath his fingers, her heartbeat fluttering with excitement. The gap between their bodies became more and more unbearable. Yennefer inched forward until his garments grazed sweetly over her sensitive skin.  
“Are you sure?” Geralt’s voice was already dark and raspy with lust.  
“Yes.” She breathed softly, and a sly smile crept onto her face. “Don’t worry; I know what I am doing. It’s not like I am an unexperienced virgin.”

Upon that remark she reached down to the now noticeable bulge in his pants that pressed warmly against her stomach, and she gently grabbed his pulsating member, letting her finger caress ever so lightly over the tip. Geralt moaned, and it was a deep and feral sound that sent shivers down Yennefer’s spine.

He gripped her neck more forcefully now, and with one last glance at her gleaming violet eyes he bent over and pressed his lips onto hers. Yennefer’s lips were sweet from wine; she moaned softly into his mouth and squeezed against his hard body. Even so the distance between their hot skin felt too great. And so Geralt let go and parted from their passionate embrace. The absence of Yennefer’s soft warm body against his was most painful, and he hastily discarded his tunic. Her delicate fingers found their way onto his chest and trailed down his stomach, exploring the thin white path of hair that disappeared into his pants.

She cried out with surprise when Geralt grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, but she understood quickly and slung her legs around his hips. Their faces were on the same level now, and their gaze met for a fleeting second before they kissed again, this time almost gently. Yennefer grazed his lips with her teeth before opening her mouth for him to explore. She whimpered when his crotch rubbed against her core, hard and hot, and warmth pooled in her stomach. Geralt held her by her waist, but soon his hands wandered downwards, grabbing her backside and pressing her entrance even harder against his pulsating shaft.

“I want you to fuck me, Geralt.” Yennefer moaned breathlessly against his mouth, eyes dark and gleaming with raw lust as she felt herself becoming wet.  
But then he suddenly stopped grinding her and she whined at the sudden loss of the rhythm, looking at him confused. He grinned mischievously at her surprised expression and let her down carefully.

“I want you to lie down.” He whispered deeply. He picked up his tunic from the ground from where he had let it fall and spread the fine silken garment onto the dark grass like a blanket; then he turned to her prompting her to lie down.

Yennefer raised her brows and smirked but did as she was told. The cloth rubbed comfortably against her back and the grass was like a soft mattress beneath her. “What are you planning, Witcher?” She mused while writhing provokingly in front of him. She was completely laid bare to him; his tall and broad figure towered before her and something about her utter vulnerability and being at his mercy made her core throb and her breath hitched in her throat. Geralt too drank up the image of her ample nakedness spread before him, her rosy and flushed skin glowing in the night like a pale flower in a dark sea of grass. Her dark curls danced wildly around her face. After what seemed an eternity, he undid his pants and his hard, throbbing member was unclothed. His huge shaft was encompassed by silvery curls and its sheer size and thickness made Yennefer gasp as she imagined it fully pushing into her.

Geralt positioned himself on top of her, knees propped up left and right of her waist. Then he grabbed her both of her arms and secured them above her head, held down gently yet firmly at her wrists by his left hand. Her eyes widened at this constraint and she squirmed playfully beneath him. “Oh no!”, she exclaimed jestingly. “I seem to have fallen in the hands of the big bad Witcher! I hope he will spare-oh…”. Yennefer writhed beneath his sudden touch. Geralt’s right hand had found the hot wetness between her thighs and he chuckled at her bodily reaction.

At first, he stroked over her already very wet entrance, inserting two fingers in her tightness, but soon his fingers found the tiny pulsating bump above. It was evident that Geralt was by no means a novice in that field; and Yennefer soon found herself whimpering and shifting as her hands remained pinned down above her head.

“Ahh- Geralt-I can’t…” She moaned so sweetly that it made his length throb painfully. He flicked the sensitive skin mercilessly as he planted kisses on her breasts and her neck, tasting her sweet skin. “Geralt-I..I- want you-aah-inside me…fuck me-aaah.”. Her clitoris was swollen and sensitive at this point, and when Geralt caressed it tenderly one last time she cried out softly. “As her lady wishes” he chuckled. He released her arms and positioned his hard member at her slick entrance; Yennefer sighed upon the sweet pressure on her core. Then, excruciatingly slowly, he pushed into her tightness, unable to suppress a deep growl when his shaft was enveloped by her hot and pulsating flesh.

It was so big. Even though Geralt was very gentle and careful entering her for the first time, her muscles stretched painfully, and she gasped, tears pricking her eyes . “Geralt, wait, it’s so-aaah-big.”

He halted his movement at once, eying her with a concerned look. “Should I stop?” he asked softly, and Yennefer heard in his strained voice how much effort it took for him to hold himself back. “I just need to aah…a-adjust.” She moaned breathlessly. He nodded and lowered himself down, brushing his lips tenderly over hers while palming her face with his fingertips gently caressing her cheek. “You’re doing so good.” He whispered soothingly. “Such a good girl.” Geralt kissed her tears away, continuing to stroke her face and mutter comforting phrases. After a while, the unpleasant and painful feeling in her subsided. “I think it’s alright now.” she breathed.

“Are you certain?” Geralt held her gaze intently. “We can stop at any time.”  
Yennefer shook her head and smiled. “I want you to fuck me, Geralt of Rivia.” She said and pushed her hips forward, moaning loudly as his thick length sank deeper into her. Geralt had to close his eyes for the feeling of being completely encompassed by Yennefer was too much, too intense. He continued to slowly and carefully press into her until his shaft finally fully disappeared in her and Yennefer whimpered as it pressed sweetly against all the good spots. “Fuck you’re big.” She managed to mutter with closed eyes. Geralt groaned as he slowly and gently pulled out almost completely, before thrusting into her again. Yennefer cried out with lust, and also Geralt couldn’t hold back a moan. At first, he worked a slower pace, for Yennefer felt incredibly tight around him and he did not want to hurt her, but soon his rhythm quickened, and they were both panting and moaning breathlessly.

Suddenly Yennefer gripped his back and with surprising strength whirled him around so that she was sitting on top of him. She smiled a devilish smile which was soon replaced by an expression of utter lust as she lowered herself onto his cock at a different angle; it pushed even deeper into her in this position and she whimpered softly.  
Her hair hung wildly around her face and over her shoulders like a dark cloud, and as she arched her back her body gleamed in the white moonlight. A sheen of sweat glistened on her pale skin like silver dew. And in that moment, Yennefer on top of him, eyes closed in utter ecstasy, sweetly moaning his name, Geralt thought that he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life, and if there truly existed a divine creature in this world, it was her, only her.

He grasped her by the waist, pushing into her faster and faster, his dick slipping in and out of her hotness as she rode him hard. Slipping one hand between their bodies he found her swollen knob with his fingers and rubbed it adeptly. Yennefer threw back her head and gasped, exposing her delicate neck.

Geralt felt that he would finish soon; Yennefer’s movements became more and more uncontrolled and frantic as her climax neared and her walls clenched sweetly around his member. “I- I can’t-“ she whined breathlessly. Geralt threw them both around so that he was on top again, pushing his full hardness mercilessly into her. Her back arched and she gripped his shoulders, her nails grazing over his hot skin as she cried out his name again and again. She came first, moaning, and Geralt let out an animalistic groan when the final contraction of her walls pushed him over the edge as well and he came in her. Yennefer body slackened beneath him, her legs shaking.

Propping his arms next her body, Geralt leaned down and kissed her sweaty skin on her neck, her jaw and finally her face, her cheeks her lips. Her violet eyes were clouded with bliss and she smiled a sweet smile at him. “It was delightful to make your acquaintance, Geralt of Rivia.” She whispered.


End file.
